


Prescription Coffee

by withaflashoflove



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9244502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withaflashoflove/pseuds/withaflashoflove
Summary: Iris has to wake up early on her day off, but Barry can't let her face the morning cold alone.





	

On this particular snowy day in Central City, Iris begrudgingly drags her feet all the way to the kitchen, the taste of coffee already on her tongue as her eyes fight to stay open.

She doesn't want to be awake right now, especially not when she's sure it's below freezing in the apartment, and Barry's sweatshirt can only keep her so warm, even with another shirt underneath it. And to think her boyfriend is still fast asleep, cuddled up in their bed between the comforter and the sheets, hugging the pillows tight and indulging in their coziness, all while she has to be awake, facing the cold chill of the kitchen air alone, wearing too much fabric that's falling off her body, not providing any extra heat to her skin.

She's too generous. It's a known fact. Because why would she spend her one day off  _ not  _ working?

She wouldn't.

Instead, she'd promise to edit Barry's latest proposals for the expansion of the CSI unit at CCPD. He'd spent the previous night up till what she assumes was 3 a.m. At least that's when she felt the bed sink under his weight, as he pressed his chest to her back and fell asleep before she could fully comprehend what was happening.

She'd promised to proofread it, after his pleads of  _ you're a better writer than I am  _ and  _ you can convince anyone to do anything _ . It's not like she wasn't going to do it. She was. But the deadline to submit was coming up, and this was the only time she was free after a really busy week at CCPN.

So Sunday morning it was. 

With the cold and the quiet to keep her company.

She loads the coffee into the filter paper, inhaling the all-too-comforting aroma of its taste, observing the little specks of black fall neatly on top of each other into a pile. She's had these scary thoughts sometimes of what would happen if suddenly Central City ran out of coffee. She told Barry. He laughed. But the next day, he had bought her 20 different bags of coffee that'd last anyone at least 2 years.

(Anyone not by the name of Iris West, because in her case, it'd last her maybe 6 months...if she was drinking in moderation, like she promised she would.

So it was her New Year's Resolution.

So far, she was definitely failing.)

That move earned him a kiss, followed by another kiss, followed by a lecture from both their bosses for being late to work. His bad habits were influencing her.

Usually she was all ready and motivated come time morning. But then sleeping with Barry happened. And waking up at 7 turned into waking up at 7:15, which eventually became 7:30, which eventually led her to sleep on the couch on nights she knew she  _ had  _ to be up early.

But sometimes, even that didn't work.

Because his nose would end up nuzzled into her neck as he'd wrap his body around hers. When she'd ask why he was on the couch with her, he'd say  _ couldn't sleep without you _ , like it was the most casual thing in the world, and really, no one could blame her for wanting a few extra minutes in his arms on those mornings.

This was not one of those mornings.

This was a morning of promise, one where she literally forced herself out of bed the moment her alarm rang, swiped the covers off her and let her bare feet hit the solid ground, hard.

Between goosebumps and shivers, she somehow managed to get dressed and make it here.

Iris leans onto the counter as the water drips into the coffee pot, and she momentarily closes her eyes, letting herself drift off for a few seconds before she abruptly moves again towards the table, pulling out the empty dining chair and readying it for her body.

She contemplates going back to sleep for a few more minutes, a short nap if you will. But the rational side of her brain knows if she steps anywhere near a soft surface, she'll fall asleep till noon, and that'll mean she'd have to rush the editing. And really, she doesn't want to do that. Not when she knows how important this was to him.

So plan B is to finish this whenever she should, and then sleep for the remainder of her day off.

The water slows its drips and Iris rubs her hands over her eyes a few times, making her way over to the sink to splash some water on her face, before reaching up to pull out her mug from the cubby.

Barry got it for her.

A huge orange mug that doubled as a prescription bottle, with the prescription being caffeine, Dr. Barry Allen responsible for rule  _ drink until awake, but do not exceed three cups in one sitting.  _

It was cute when he got it, but knowing her love affair with mugs, she got him one right back, one with the elements Cobalt, Fluorine and Iron placed next to each other, their symbols spelling out Co F fe (he didn't mind the missing e; it bothered her more than it did him, but it was still a cute mug).

Afterall, he could outdo her in any present, but not in mugs. That would always be hers to win.

Today, since he was still asleep, she decides to use his mug instead of hers, pulling it out and laughing at if for a few seconds. Joe almost broke this one too, the first time he visited the apartment. Luckily, Wally was fast enough to catch it before it fell, even beating Barry to it.

With the memory in mind, Iris walks over to the coffee machine, taking in its beautiful smell as it infuses the air with caffeine molecules. She slowly lifts it up and pours herself a cup, filling it till the very top so that the liquid is only just underneath the rim.

She goes to turn around, in hopes of just a small addition of milk to complete the cup. But the fridge is hindered from view, her boyfriend responsible for that.

He's standing in front of her with his shirt off and his hair ruffled,  _ smelling _ like sleep and  _ looking _ like sleep, and god she knows if she takes any steps towards him, she'll let him convince her to go back to bed.

So she stays in place and watches the smile illuminate his face, as one of his hands comes to the nape of his neck.

"It's cold."

_ For her it is.  _ For him, his fast metabolism allows him the pleasure of being shirtless whenever he wants, wherever he wants. 

Just her luck.

"Yet..." he continues, "...you're here and not in bed."

"Observant," comes her reply, head cocked playfully to the side.

He takes a step towards her.

"Come back to bed."

"Don't you dare, Barry Allen."

Iris quickly turns around and picks up the mug, securing it in her hand as she hastily makes her way over to the table.

"Iris!" He calls after her.

She pulls out the chair and plants her butt firmly in it, determined to get the task done and not let him bribe her into any compromise.

"Let me finish this."

As she pushes open her laptop, she hears his footsteps and before she can turn around, his head is already resting on top of hers, while his arms loop around her chest.

"Come back to bed," he coos.

Curse him.

For feeling so warm, in stark contrast to the cold air.

But she's got her coffee and no amount of forehead kisses will convince her to leave. 

She decides to ignore him, already reading the introduction of his proposal, her mind rephrasing sentences, mismatching the verbs and their nouns, reordering the components to add to the variety. Barry's ideas were incomparable, but his prose always needed a little extra spice, one that she was happy to give.

When she goes to type a revision, his hands cover hers.

"Barry."

"Iris," he counters.

Then a kiss comes to her neck.

Then another to her check.

Then he wraps her tight.

But she's not losing this.

"It's your proposal, you know," she manages to stutter out, between the moan that escapes her lips as he bites down just beneath her ear.

"Mhm, I know."

"So you should let me proof it."

"Later."

He spins the chair around and squats in front of her.

"Come back to bed."

She shakes her head, her eyes pleading with him to let her work on this in peace.

But Barry doesn't listen, not in the mornings anyway. That's something she's picked up on. No matter how many times she'll tell him  _ we'll be late _ , he manages to find a way to convince her that they won't be. She usually isn't. He  _ always  _ is.

Before another word can leave her lips, he extends both hands towards her, seemingly already knowing she's going to take them.

She does.

_ Mistake number 1. _

"You've got all day."

"It's due at 3," she argues, gripping his hands tightly in hers, their warmth heating up her cold fingers.

"I'll get an extension."

She goes to counter his point, but he interrupts her with a kiss to the lips, one that she deepens, because it's the morning and he tastes like the mint from their toothpaste, and his hands are snaking their way up her sweatshirt, and she's bathing in how good this all feels.

Which is  _ mistake number 2. _

"Iris," comes his voice, between the unhurried kisses.

She quickly pulls away, her name serving a reminder that she's supposed to be  _ working  _ and  _ not kissing. _

"Barry!" 

Iris pushes off him and spins the chair back around, wiping her lips off in the process, refocusing herself on the computer screen. "Let me finish this."

"It's early."

And maybe it is, the clock reading 7 a.m., but the sooner this gets done, the better.

"I'll get an extension," he repeats.

"No. I'll finish it."

When the room goes silent, she wonders if he's gone back to bed, too afraid to turn around and confirm for herself, the thought of his eyes locking with hers something she doesn't think she can resist. But then...

"I'll stay with you."

He makes his way over and sits in the chair next to hers, reaching over to take a sip from her coffee.

"Excuse you," she glares at him.

"My mug," he smirks.

"Barry."

"Hmm?"

She huffs. "Why are you always so stubborn?"

"What you call stubborn, I call supportive," he counters, finally setting the mug back down.

She rolls her eyes.

He lets her get about four more sentences in before interrupting again. "You know...we could be back in bed cuddling instead of this cold kitchen."

" _ You  _ could be," she corrects, "so go....be."

"Not without you."

Iris looks up at him, the goofy grin on his face melting her resilience away, slowly but surely. He looks far too cute for his own good, especially with the ruffled brown locks and greens of his eyes glistening.

"I have 19 pages to go."

"That's 19 pages too many."

"Barry. It'd be less if you stopped distracting me."

"It'd be easier if you just come back to bed."

The steam from the coffee mug fogs her glasses as she goes to take another sip, the effects of the drug already working their wonders inside her body. "It's waking me up."

"Yes," he says, "but you could do all of this in bed."

"No." She finally pushes the laptop away and looks at him. "If I go back to bed, you won't rest till you get me to fall asleep again, and I’m not doing that till gets done.”

“I promise you that won’t be the case!”

She laughs. “You’re either lying to me or to yourself.”

“I promise!” He defends. “I’ll keep my word! But it’s cold here and it’s so much warmer in bed. I’ll even take the coffee and the laptop and carry you over, so you don’t have to walk. Really, all you have to do is agree.”

Part of her knows it’s a trick. The other part of her is too lost in his eyes to even care, proposal be dammed when it’s 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning. And he did say he could get an extension, so no harm really.

“Fine.”

_ Mistake number 3. _

A red streak lights up the room and he’s back next to her as quickly as he left, arms already lifting her up, one on her back, the other underneath her thighs. “Almost set,” he smiles.

And he’s  _ so  _ warm, and she’s  _ so very screwed. _ Because soon enough, her nose finds its way to his neck as he gently rubs her back and pulls her close to his body, while carrying her back to their bedroom.

When he reaches the bed, he slowly sets her down, and Iris feels the soft fabric, as well as the heat from where he was just lying down. She lets out a deep breath, cuddling close beneath the covers, as the laptop rests in front of her and the coffee on the drawer to her side, ready to be sipped.

Barry comes to sit on the oppose side, extending an arm around her shoulder. “See? Easy.”

“Okay,” she hums, “but let me read.”

About half an hour goes by and she gets another 7 pages in, her coffee mug almost empty. She ponders getting up and pouring herself another one, but the kitchen seems so far away and she’s so comfortable beneath the covers, her eyes a little droopier than they were in the kitchen, but still operating just fine.

To her side, she thinks Barry’s fallen asleep again, with one hand around her shoulders, the other around her chest, and his head on her shoulder, his soft exhales tickling her neck.

It’s all too sweet, the feel of him next to her as the snow keeps falling in the outside terrain. 

She can get this done within two hours max, one if she does a lousier job on it, but this is for Barry, and she wants him to get this approved. 

However, he stirs next to her, his eyes peeking up from his headrest. “Sleeeeeeeep,” he sings.

She laughs. “I’m almost halfway through.”

“Good. So perfect excuse for a break.”

Barry begins pulling the laptop away, but she holds tight. “ _ Almost _ , Bear. Let me get to page 10.”

When she thinks he’s convinced, he surprises her by shutting the laptop down and setting it aside, all before she can tell what’s happened. And then he’s on top of her, and his legs getting tangled with hers while his hands draw circles along her waist.

“Barry!”

“Mhm?” He lifts his head and she can see the smile in his eyes. He looks so happy, as happy as a little kid playing in the snow for the first time, and she doesn’t want to resist this morning with him anymore, not when he’s looking at her like she’s the only cup of hot chocolate in a cold town, like she’s the star to top the Christmas tree, like she’s the icing on the gingerbread house.

So she pulls him down to her and presses their mouths together, her hands already roaming his back, her tongue dancing with his.

“Five minutes,” she manages to say.

Barry doesn’t respond, instead peeling the sweatshirt off her body, the shirt coming off with it, soon to be replaced by his hands.

He drops his lips to her neck and kisses down her chest till he reaches her belly, till he does that thing that makes her laughter ring through the air, till she has no choice but to pull him back up to meet her eyes.

“I love you,” he says, with so much sincerity that Iris holds her breath for a few seconds.

And he can do that.

He can turn the mood from playful to meaningful with one word, something that she hasn’t managed to navigate yet, something that always stops her in her tracks.

Her fingers play with the long strands of hair brushing his neck.

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I love you as much as you love coffee.”

“Noooo!” she teases, moving her head to the side, breaking their eye contact.

He follows though, bringing his hand to tilt her face back to his. “You love me more than you love coffee.”

She raises her eyebrows. “How do you know?”

“Well.” Barry pauses for a few seconds, leaning down for another kiss. “The coffee pot’s in the kitchen. But you came back to bed with me.

And some days, you don’t drink coffee here, but you do kiss me.

And you let me sneak sips from your mug. But you don’t let anyone else do that.”

She smiles.

“So,” he concludes, “it must mean coffee comes second in the things you love.”

“And you come first?” she asks, her voice whimsical. 

“I hope I do,” he says bashfully, and of course he does. Because Iris West can live without coffee on some days, but she doesn’t want to live a minute without Barry Allen.

“So…” Barry adds, “do I?”

She grins. “Do you even have to ask?”

The proposal can wait a few more hours. She’ll finish it before 3. But right now, it’s still morning and she’d rather be kissing her baby.  
  



End file.
